I recently gave up my studio in Brooklyn to make art from home and
prepare for the arrival of our first child. I have always considered
“place” in my work as I have moved from growing up in the Sonoran desert
and the suburban sprawl of Phoenix to dense cities along the East and
West Coasts. At eight-months pregnant, my body has changed a lot, and
as I experience the movements of my baby, I imagine “place” as something
completely different for her. Insulated and contained, the womb only
allows her abstractions; muffled sounds, partial lights, and erratic
movements. The instinct to care for her in her little world translates
into a strong desire to care for my own home, to clean-out and make
comfortable, drawing me far from the fast and needy city. Yet, at the
same time, I look for ways to maintain my social connections and
friendships and for ways to make visible the ties between our child’s
life and the place where my husband and I both grew up, and where our
families live.

For this project I photographed decaying areas of New York City:
paint peeling in the subways, layers of dirt and grime in the streets. I
isolated one image from the series and recreated multiple wall hangings
out of discarded household items and packing materials. Resembling a
human profile, the old towels, t-shirts, and intimates as well as
cardboard, stained carpet and joint compound, create a wallpaper-like,
decorative pattern. Installed in our bedroom, the meaning and history
of this image and of the discarded materials are recontextualized by the
interiority and intimacy of the space. A sense of the tangible and the
intangible becomes visible and the process of defining who we are and
what we see, both concrete and ambiguous, takes shape.